


Sweet melancholy

by Notsaying97



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Smut, or maybe actual angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsaying97/pseuds/Notsaying97
Summary: Miles hadn’t expected to see Alex here, is the line he’s telling himself. He’s attending a party at the house of a mutual friend, but he hadn’t thought that Alex would turn up, as he usually didn’t. It might be a little more convincing if he wasn’t wearing a silk shirt that draped over his shoulders in a way he knew Alex loved and if he hadn’t doused it in the cologne that Alex inhaled deeply and unconsciously whenever he caught its scent. But Miles hadn’t known for sure that Alex was in the country, so he can’t be held accountable for these choices.
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	Sweet melancholy

Miles hadn’t expected to see Alex here, is the line he’s telling himself. He’s attending a party at the house of a mutual friend, but he hadn’t thought that Alex would turn up, as he usually didn’t. It might be a little more convincing if he wasn’t wearing a silk shirt that draped over his shoulders in a way he knew Alex loved and if he hadn’t doused it in the cologne that Alex inhaled deeply and unconsciously whenever he caught its scent. But Miles hadn’t known for sure that Alex was in the country, so he can’t be held accountable for these choices. 

Yet here Alex is, in the country and without the girl that tends to take him out of the country. Alex walks in when Miles is already on his third gin and tonic. He looks very sober and very tired and unfairly handsome for it. His hair is a lot longer than it was the last time Miles saw him, and it looks softer too, but he doesn’t know this for sure because he didn’t touch it the last time. 

Miles feels himself sinking into the sofa and wonders why his body has decided this is the way it wants to react. He thinks back to better times when he would have leapt up and embraced Alex, possibly pressed a sloppy, enthusiastic kiss to his cheek and enjoyed the way Alex squirmed against him, embarrassed but visibly pleased at the attention. He thinks back to worse times when he would have gone over to Alex and started an argument, or at the very least a passive aggressive conversation, and enjoyed Alex’s embarrassment in a very different way, relishing how discomfited he could make the man look. 

Now, he tries to ignore Alex’s presence, as he’s done for months while Alex returned the favour. He’s half-tempted to ask the friend he’s talking to tell him whether Alex has noticed his presence but he doesn’t because even through the frantic fog that’s been conjured in his mind, he can still tell it would come across as a ridiculously infantile request. Instead, he buries his face in his glass and strains his eyeballs with the effort of trying to catch a glimpse of Alex from this position. 

Eventually, Alex gets into a spot that enables him to do so, and Miles watches surreptitiously as Alex joins a group in conversation. He can’t make out Alex’s face in the dimly lit room but his posture is tense and slightly hunched in a way that lets Miles know that he didn’t want to be here. He fights the impulse to go over and rescue Alex from the conversation and from the social engagement he’s clearly attended unwillingly. Miles wonders why he came.

Still trying to hold a conversation with his friends, Miles talks distractedly while tracking Alex’s every movement. They definitely notice but are kind enough not to say anything. He imagines he’d see them rolling their eyes if he could take his own off of Alex. It’s not entirely clear to him why he has to look at Alex, but he does. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen him in such a long time that he’d almost forgotten he was a real person and now craves the confirmation that Alex isn’t simply a figment of his imagination. He just knows his eyes are hungry to drink Alex in and he can’t bring himself to fight the impulse.

Miles is still speaking with his eyes glued to Alex when they collide with Alex’s own gaze. Alex is also mid-speech and for a moment they’re both speaking to people that they aren’t really addressing while their eyes bore into each other. It’s electrifying and Miles feels his body jolting towards Alex as if a thread is connecting both their bodies. 

They’re both managing to maintain separate conversations and Miles can distantly hear his own voice, which appears animated and engaged, but he has no idea what he’s saying. The voice doesn’t seem connected to him, it doesn’t seem real in the same way that Alex’s gaze upon him is. It feels like a pleasant relief to let his body go into autopilot so he can expend his energy where it really matters. 

The hazy reality is shattered when he hears a sharp cough next to him and feels a friend push another cool glass into his hand. His fingers close around the glass, which condensation has made slippery, and he has to make an effort to prevent the glass from sliding straight onto the ground and smashing into tiny shards all over the oak floor. The person in front of him has started talking and he forces himself to look at them as they speak. He can’t hear a thing they’re saying though, his head is full of blood and it’s simultaneously deafening and creating a muffled effect that makes him feel strangely peaceful. He can’t really see either, he’s only vaguely aware of the shadows cast on the face in front of him. 

Yet despite this, or perhaps because of it, he’s still highly aware of Alex’s presence across the room. It’s like he can feel the movements Alex’s body is making and sense the waves of emotion that wash over him. He feels like one of those animals with a dulled sense of sight and scent but that still make excellent predators because of their heightened spatial awareness and cognitive ability. 

He idly wonders how the rest of the evening is going to play out. Suddenly, nothing feels urgent. He knows he’s not going to approach Alex – he’s tired of approaching Alex. If Alex has decided he’s really going to stay away this time, so be it, Miles thinks, but he knows he’s only being so blasé because he can tell that Alex won’t. The look in Alex’s eyes had reassured him of that. 

Now it seems to simply be a waiting game and he’s going to enjoy it. He lounges on the sofa and sips slowly at his drink, deciding he’s quite drunk enough. He chats to the people around him with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. When a handsome man approaches their group, he slides over on the sofa and pats a hand against the leather to invite the man to sit next to him. The man sits closer to him than he needs to and gives him a warm smile that Miles laps up.

He hasn’t looked at Alex in ages and he doesn’t feel the need to because he can tell that Alex is shooting glances his way. The man on the sofa places a hand on his knee and Miles lets his legs splay slightly to encourage him. The hand trails up his thigh and comes to rest on the middle of his thigh. His hand is large and broad and looks even more so against his slender thigh. Miles senses Alex’s hands tighten around the bottle he’s holding and can almost visualise the points at which his flesh has gone white. Miles throws an arm over the shoulder of his new companion who responds with enthusiasm, pressing closer against Miles’s side and squeezing his thigh. He’s enjoying himself. 

“What’s your name?” he whispers into the man’s ear, gripping the back of his neck to keep him in place. The man shivers slightly and Miles grins.

“Richard,” he responds against Miles’s ear, his stubble brushing against his skin. His voice is a bit posh and deeply resonant in a way that might trigger Miles’s interest on any other evening. He almost regrets that he won’t get to sleep with him, but not quite. 

A while later, Richard asks whether he’d like another drink and he agrees placidly, admiring him leisurely as he gets up. He wonders whether Alex will choose this point to approach but decides he won’t. True to form he doesn’t, and soon enough Richard has returned and has settled even closer to Miles. He pulls Miles against him in a way that’s uncomfortably close to being possessive. Miles is suddenly reminded of the problem with posh men and their sense of entitlement but he’s committed to the game now and besides, he quite likes Richard’s assurance. He contemplates throwing his legs over his muscled thighs but decides that that would be pushing it a bit. 

He settles into Richard’s side and has almost relaxed when Richard pulls Miles’s legs onto his lap for himself and has wrapped both his arms around Miles’s waist. He’s also managed to simultaneously be stroking Miles’s thigh, and Miles feels distantly impressed with Richard’s dexterity and the sheer span of his body. Mostly, however, he feels desperately that he needs to get away as the manhandling has started to feel excessive and he’s worried Richard might start to think this is going places that it isn’t. Miles shoots the man an apologetic smile and pats him decisively on the shoulder before gesturing his head towards the kitchen. Richard seems to get the message and lets Miles get up. He doesn’t follow.

Miles enters the kitchen and opens the fridge, the blast of cool air against his face makes him realise he was feeling overheated, so he stands there a bit longer. He closes his eyes so they don’t dry out and becomes aware of someone approaching the kitchen. He feels fairly certain of their identity so he grabs a beer and turns around as they enter. 

“Hey,” Alex says casually like he hasn’t spent months pretending Miles doesn’t exist. His face is resolutely blank. 

It gets to Miles, but he’s damned if he’s going to let it show. “Fancy seeing you here,” Miles says in an exaggerated tone.

Alex doesn’t laugh. He moves to the fridge to get a beer for himself. “Who’s that bloke you were with?” Alex asks with a nonchalance that does little to conceal how he had felt watching them. 

Miles smiles magnanimously at him. He likes that from Alex’s perspective it might have looked like Richard was more than just a handsome stranger who had chosen to sit next to Miles. He likes that Alex might have been furiously creating theories about their relationship in his head. He considers prolonging Alex’s theorising by simply saying “Richard”, but decides against it. “I don’t know,” he says innocently, widening his eyes and giving a little headshake.

Alex takes a swig of beer and nods slowly. Miles can sense that he’s realised his question might have revealed something he hadn’t want to and that he’s now resolved to be more careful about what he’s saying. It gives him a thrill to be able to read Alex as easily as he can at the moment; it was an ability he’d feared he’d lost. Maybe the issue had been down to Alex’s opacity more than anything on his side. “He looked into you,” Alex comments, eyes glued to the floor. 

“He might have been,” Miles replies calmly, his tone offhand and not betraying the way his heart rate sped up at the confirmation that Alex absolutely had been watching. 

Alex’s eyes snap up to his with a suddenness and an intensity that startles Miles. “He was. And he’s not the only one,” Alex says, and his voice is rough and low and Miles wonders exactly how much he’s had to drink since he’d arrived. 

Miles swallows. “Right,” he murmurs. He doesn’t feel as sure-footed as he had a little while ago. 

“I want you,” Alex says boldly, still not breaking eye contact. It’s unlike Alex to be so blunt, but not unheard of. It sounds like he’s daring Miles, but Miles isn’t sure what he’s daring him to do exactly. Miles takes a step towards him in response, just to test the water, but also because he wants to be closer to him. The tenuous string connecting their bodies is reeling him in and resistance is starting to feel more ridiculous than fun. 

In a second, Alex’s hands are gripping his head and he’s kissing him hungrily. The pressure on the string is relieved instantly as their bodies come into contact, it twines around itself in a way that feels reassuring. It all feels like a relief - like there had been a tension Miles had been carrying in his body without realising for all the months that they’d been apart. From the way Alex’s body is contorting itself to mould all the contours of their bodies against each other, it doesn’t seem he was alone in feeling this way. 

Miles mirrors Alex, equalling the passion in Alex’s kiss in a way that turns it rough far too quickly and they’re both sloppily pushing their tongues into each other’s mouth and licking possessively. It’s instantly the best he’s felt in a shamefully long time. He feels Alex run his tongue all along the roof of his mouth and shudders. He pulls away and bites down hard on Alex’s bottom lip, hard enough that he can faintly taste the metallic tinge of blood. He licks the spot to chase the flavour. Alex groans loudly and Miles is suddenly returned to reality. He pulls away quickly and Alex has the cheek to look annoyed. His expression is extreme enough to be comical.

“We can’t just kiss in the kitchen of our friend’s house, Al,” he says.

“Why not?” Alex questions, like a spoilt child. 

“Because,” Miles replies slowly, explaining it to him as if he were a particularly dense spoilt child, “someone we know could quite easily walk in and decide that your girlfriend has a right to this information.”

“Right,” Alex says with a contemplative expression. He doesn’t look terribly perturbed by the information and Miles isn’t sure what to make of that. “We could go back to mine then, or yours if you prefer.” His suggestion is so presumptuous that Miles suddenly feels a flash of irritation. He tries to tamp it down because it’s not what he wants to feel right now and Alex wasn’t wrong in assuming he’d put out. Besides, he’s grateful Alex didn’t suggest the bathroom.

Miles grabs his coat and the two of them swiftly exit the house without saying goodbye to anyone. Miles can text his apologies later. They walk back to Miles’s place because it’s closer and because Miles doesn’t think he can face seeing Eau de Parfum on the bedside table next to a delicate gold bracelet and a hair ribbon. He wonders if there’d be new works of art on the walls, or maybe photographs.

Somehow, he can’t help but feel that this is a step in the right direction for their relationship, a step towards its reparation, though he’s aware that most people would tell this was an insane belief. Other people, and Alex, seem to think of shagging as something dangerous and destructive. Maybe that’s true for some relationships, but Miles has realised what Alex has somehow failed to – they get along a lot better when they’re shagging. He briefly allows himself to consider that perhaps Alex has finally realised this and that’s why they’re about to have sex despite Alex having told him adamantly that they weren’t going to anymore. He’d laughed at the time because they’d failed to put the brakes on their relationship many times before, but Alex had been unexpectedly resilient. 

He doesn’t let himself get carried away with the notion that Alex has come to his senses, however, as he’s been proved wrong often enough as it is. Instead, he breathes in the cool air hungrily, as if it might help him come to his senses. All it does is make him realise that he’s surprisingly clear-headed. He wants to have sex with Alex and Alex wants to have sex with him and it all feels very familiar and natural. Pretending they didn’t want to fuck was difficult, this was easy. 

Alex lights a cigarette in his mouth and hands it to Miles. Miles sucks it into his lungs while Alex lights another for himself. Miles watches the way his lips wrap around the cigarette and the way his cheeks hollow and knows that Alex is putting on a show. He likes that he is. Alex blows the smoke out slowly through rounded lips and gives Miles a lazy smirk. It’s a dark empty street, so Miles pushes Alex up against a lamppost and kisses the smirk off of his face and more, only pulling away when Alex is entirely breathless. He then continues to walk in the direction of his house, listening to Alex’s pants coming from behind him. 

When Alex catches up with him, he surprises Miles by interlacing their fingers. Miles shoots him a questioning look and Alex shrugs, a gesture that Miles returns while squeezing Alex’s hand. It’s a gentler, more intimate move than he expected. It wasn’t the behaviour Miles had expected for tonight. He can still feel pent up anger radiating between them, along with a multitude of other emotions, but anger’s the easiest to deal with so he’d imagined it’s what they would deal with. Maybe pretending it doesn’t exist is easier though. It feels pretty easy now.

When they walk into Miles’s place Miles considers making a show of hospitality and offering Alex a drink but Alex doesn’t give him the opportunity. The moment the door is shut Alex is spinning him round to pin him up against the door. Miles grins into the kiss, placing his hands on Alex’s narrow hips to bring him closer. Alex kisses him like he’s been starved and all Miles can do is let him sate himself. It’s all he wants to do. It’s rare that Alex is as domineering as this and Miles is going to milk it for all it’s worth. As Alex crowds him against the door and kisses his mouth possessively, Miles thinks he’d quite happily let him devour him. 

“Kiss me back, you lazy sod,” Alex growls against his mouth after a while, and it delights Miles that he’ll beg for kisses. He likes to reward good behaviour though, so he does kiss Alex, deep and slow and just the way he likes it. Alex breathes out a satisfied sigh and Miles shoves a hand roughly into his hair to pull on it. “Harder,” Alex demands. Miles complies willingly with a sharp tug and Alex lets out a hissing sound as his head bends back. Miles sinks his teeth into the exposed skin. 

“Like that?” he asks.

“Y-yeah.. mmm… keep going. Please,” Alex replies breathily. Miles adores how easy it is to transform the man into a needy mess. 

Miles maintains his grip on Alex’s hair to keep his head in place as he nips along his jaw. He then sweeps his tongue across the flesh, trying to trace the ridges he’s created. Alex is moaning so wantonly that Miles wants to push him onto the floor and utterly wreck him. He’s fairly certain that they won’t have sex again for a while after this, so he wants Alex to be forced to remember it for as long as possible. 

To make good on that aim, Miles manoeuvres them over to the sofa, herding Alex with his body and steering him by his hair. Alex moves willingly. He shoves Alex down onto the sofa and crawls over him, caging his body in. Alex strains for a kiss but Miles ignores him and returns to his neck, sucking at the skin hard. He wants it to bruise. He moves to a spot on the side of Alex’s neck that he knows bruises easily and that he also knows makes the man entirely incoherent if he applies just the right amount of pressure. As expected, Alex makes garbled moaning sounds and paws at Miles’s back and head to demand more. 

His intimate knowledge of Alex’s body is one of the greatest parts about having had sex with someone for as long as they have been. Equally, one of the greatest parts about not having sex with someone for some time is that you don’t tire of it. But as Alex makes a quiet mewling sound and slips a hand into Miles’s shirt to brush the skin on his back, Miles thinks that he probably wouldn’t tire of this even if they were fucking 24/7. In fact, the idea is hideously appealing.

He leans back to admire his work, settling on Alex’s thighs and observing the bruises blossoming on his skin. He brushes two fingers idly across the damaged skin and is overcome with the urge to press down on the parts that look particularly painful. Alex inhales sharply as he does so and Miles returns his gaze to his face. His eyes are glassy and he’s staring at Miles as though Miles is his personal saviour. 

Miles startles at the look, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, and makes to remove his hand from Alex’s neck. Alex is quick to react and grips his hand. “Stay there,” he whispers, face flushed with shame and desire. He takes Miles’s other hand and places it on the other side of his neck then put his own hands over them to keep them in place and apply slight pressure. “Love it when you do this,” he admits in a low, slightly strangled voice, as if Miles doesn’t know. 

Miles leans down to kiss Alex and puts more pressure on Alex’s neck. As he kisses him, Alex produces delicious breathless sounds and shifts his crotch desperately against Miles’s thigh. 

“Slow down, baby,” Miles purrs against Alex’s lips, their foreheads locked together. “Want to take my time with you.”

“Yes,” Alex agrees eagerly. “Sorry.” He looks up at Miles with wide eyes, pupils blown huge, and makes no move to pursue Miles, staying deliberately still. 

“Good boy,” Miles says with a kiss to Alex’s forehead, trying to disguise the dizzying effect that Alex’s submission has over him. There’s something about knowing how much Alex trusts him that drives him slightly insane. The feeling of power delights him in a way that scares him or would scare him if he didn’t just want to enjoy it. There had also been times when Alex wouldn’t allow Miles to have him in this way so it now felt like an immense privilege and it reassured him.

Miles kisses him leisurely while maintaining his hold on his neck, careful not to push too much despite the way Alex is encouraging him. He had felt how hard Alex was but refuses to give him any relief, enjoying the way Alex squirms ineffectually against the sofa but is disciplined enough to know not to arch up. “You’re being so good, baby. Gonna make it worth your wait,” he murmurs and Alex lets out a little cry of anticipation. 

He could do this for hours, Miles thinks, and makes a good go of doing exactly. He wonders how long before Alex will crumble and demand relief, enjoying being able to slowly drive him wild. The sounds Alex makes begin to get more and more desperate and broken. When Miles does something with his tongue that Alex finds particularly enjoyable while applying just barely enough force to his neck to choke him, Alex lets out a sob of pleasure. Miles decides it’s time to reward him.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks with a little smirk and rubs lightly at Alex’s crotch. Alex nods and moans but doesn’t open his eyes, as if he’s too into it to face the real world. Miles kisses his eyelids. “Tell me,” Miles demands. He knows Alex struggles to speak when he gets like this but he doesn’t care, he has to hear Alex.

“S’good,” he slurs as if he were completely plastered. “It’s so good with you. You always-” he breaks off with a gasp as Miles presses the heel of his palm down on his erection. 

“You always…?” Miles questions teasingly. 

“You always know what I need,” Alex continues, his voice high and needy.

Miles leans down to kiss him, rough and desperate, while gripping Alex through his jeans. “What do you need?” Miles asks, almost as out of breath as Alex is.

“To suck you off,” Alex replies instantly before his face flushes.

Miles is torn between teasing him and encouraging him. He decides he can probably do both. “You need to suck me off?” he murmurs while kissing Alex’s jaw. 

Alex nods, looking undeterred despite his embarrassment, perhaps even encouraged by it. “Think about it all the time. Love how you feel in my mouth. Love it when you fuck my mouth like you own it. Please let me.” 

Miles, who had been quite happy to ignore the ache in his jeans to focus on Alex, suddenly feels desperate for relief. He wonders whether Alex really does think about giving him blowjobs often and if so, when? Does he wank off thinking about it? Does he fuck other people thinking about it? Or does he simply masochistically contemplate it while not allowing himself any relief?

Miles puts the thought to the side for the moment as he has the real Alex in front of him, begging and waiting for his assent. He nods dazedly and watches as Alex licks his lips in response. They’re red and swollen from Miles’s kisses. Miles allows Alex to get up and sits on the sofa as Alex settles between his legs on the floor. He makes swift work of Miles’s belt buckle and unzips his jeans. He palms roughly at Miles through his boxers before pulling him out. He wastes little time and takes the tip straight into his mouth as though he simply could not wait. It’s hugely gratifying. 

“Fuck, Al,” he groans. Miles grips onto his hair to encourage him down further and Alex complies eagerly, taking him down to the base as though he did it every day. It makes Miles wonder whether Alex had sucked anyone else off since the last time he’d done it to Miles, but he quickly forgot the line of thought as Alex’s mouth tightens around him and his tongue curls sinfully. He tugs hard on Alex’s hair and Alex moans in response so pulls harder. The reverberations travel through Miles’s entire body and he gasps. 

Distantly, he hears the sound of Alex choking and then he feels Alex pulling off of him. He watches as Alex pants and plays with sweaty strands of his hair. “Sorry,” he mutters, his voice wrecked. “I’ll be gentler.”

Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No! Like it like this. Feels fucking amazing.” He takes him back down all the way. 

“Ah- baby,” Miles moans. His head drops against the back of the sofa as he feels Alex bobbing up and down on his cock. Alex uses his hands to spread his legs further apart so he can get closer and rubs his palms along the sensitive skin of Miles’s inner thighs. “Jesus, Al. You’re so fucking good at this. It’s like you were made for it.” Miles wonders how he ever thought he could live without this. He thinks there’s little he’s experienced in life that’s been better than Alex’s mouth on him. 

Alex pulls off for breath but almost immediately turns his attention to Miles’s balls, taking them into his mouth and sucking while continuing to jerk Miles off, his grip hard and fast. Miles suddenly feels frighteningly close to the edge. “Al,” he breathes out harshly. “Fuck, I’m close. Slow down.” Alex’s grip on his cock loosens and Miles tries to catch his breath, desperate to enjoy the sensation for as long as possible. It occurs to him that this might not happen again for a while, which feels desperately unfair. His hips strain with the effort not to snap up into Alex’s grip. 

Alex removes his hands and starts kissing Miles’s thighs. Miles groans, his body is desperate for relief and its denial is excruciatingly pleasurable. He cock twitches uselessly against his stomach but he won’t stroke it, wanting desperately to come in Alex’s mouth. Alex grips his arse and urges him forward until he’s standing in front of Alex. Alex takes him back into his mouth and continues to spur him forward and Miles’s hips start to jerk forward into the warm, wet heat.

He starts slowly, not wanting to hurt Alex, but Alex pulls off. “Fuck me. Want it rough. Show me you want me. Use me till I’m sore, you’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he babbles.

Miles nods through a haze of arousal and begins to fuck Alex’s mouth, his hips snapping urgently as he pulls on Alex’s hair to keep him in place. Alex continues to grip his arse to encourage him, not that Miles needs it. He tries to hold his orgasm at bay for as long as possible but is unable to when he catches a glimpse of Alex’s sweaty flushed face taking his cock. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You absolute doll. You look so good like this, baby. Want to come in your mouth.”

Alex moans desperately and attempts to nod but the gesture makes him start to choke. Miles gasps as his cock hits the back of Alex’s throat and his eyes fall shut as he comes, moaning Alex’s name.

Miles’s knees give out and he falls back against the sofa. He distantly registers Alex taking off his trousers and suddenly Alex is on top of him, sitting on his thigh and riding it while they kiss open-mouthed. Miles tastes himself on Alex’s tongue. Alex pulls away with a pained sound and buries his face into Miles’s neck, muffling the sound of the moans escaping his mouth as he ruts animalistically against Miles. 

Miles briefly considers helping Alex out, but he’s enjoying watching Alex bounce up and down on his knee. The fact that Alex is so close just from sucking him off is thrilling and he looks out of his mind with pleasure, shamelessly seeking it in any way he can. Miles wraps his arms around Alex to encourage him and breathes praise into his ear. “Yeah, just like that, darling. You’re going to come now aren’t you, baby? Bet you’ve been desperate to come since you put your lips on my cock, haven’t you?” Miles asks and Alex whines his agreement 

Alex repositions himself to grind against Miles’s stomach, and Miles unbuttons his shirt and pulls Alex out of his boxers so Alex can rut straight onto his skin. He’s dripping precum onto Miles’s abs, which smooths the way as he thrusts against him in desperate, stuttering motions. “Better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Alex pants. “Yeah, ‘s so good. Fuck. Want you so much all the fucking time.”

Miles watches transfixed as Alex throws his head back, his body arched beautifully. He reaches out to touch Alex’s face, simply wanting to feel the hot skin. His eyelashes have clumped together in spikes and rest against his cheek. His mouth looks sore and hangs open. “Want you too. You’re so lovely, Al,” he whispers reverently, and it really does feel painfully unfair that he doesn’t get to have Alex like this every day. Seconds later he hears Alex cry out his name and watches as he comes on his stomach.

Alex slumps down against him, once again burying his face in Miles’s neck. He breathes in deeply as if he craves more of Miles’s scent. Miles strokes up and down Alex’s back as he catches his breath. He closes his eyes and tries to commit the feeling of Alex’s warm, limp body against him to memory. 

When Alex eventually pulls away the cum that was on his stomach has been transferred to Alex’s shirt. Alex looks at it with a little frown then takes off the shirt and wipes Miles’s stomach with it before tossing it on the ground. 

“You look really good,” Alex murmurs appreciatively as he unbuttons Miles’s shirt and slides it off his shoulders. Miles feels the muscles of his abs tense as Alex traces the lines.

“Thanks for not ruining my shirt,” Miles says. 

“Course that’s what you thank me for. Where’s the ‘thanks for the mind-blowing blowjob’?” Alex enquires with a laugh. 

“Mm think I was pretty vocal in my appreciation,” Miles supplies lazily. “Also, you might have ruined my carpet by throwing your filthy shirt on it,” he adds because he’s petty. 

Alex rolls his eyes and kisses his nose. “I can put it away if you want,” he enquires, but the way he settles back down against Miles suggests that he’d prefer not to follow through. Miles finds he doesn’t mind very much now that he’s got Alex’s bare skin pressed against his own and he’s free to run his hands over it to his heart’s content. Alex seems to be enjoying himself too as he presses wet kisses to Miles’s neck and licks the skin there with sweet kitten licks. Miles smiles at the ceiling, feeling warm and happy while he desperately tries to forget that this isn’t going to last very long ago. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Alex whispers into his neck, and Miles shivers at the words and the sensation of breath against his wet skin. It shatters the lovely little post-coital bubble they’ve created but at the same time, the bubble seems to expand to create something larger. Miles doesn’t say it back because he feels like Alex knows. Instead, he encourages Alex to lift his head and cups it to kiss him gently. Alex sighs happily into the kiss and for a while they trade gentle kisses filled with far too much tenderness for the occasion. 

“Do you want a shower?” Miles suggests when it’s become difficult to ignore the sweaty mess they’ve created. Alex nods and they walk over to the shower. 

Alex snorts when he sees his shampoo choice – ginger and lemongrass – but starts to work it into Miles’s hair, his nails scratching at Miles’s scalp in a way that makes Miles’s body tingle. 

“You really do love posh things,” Alex teases. Miles instinctively wants to protest that it’s not true because he loves Alex, but quickly realises what a mistake that would be and is glad to be facing away from Alex. Besides, Alex is a bit posh now, and he probably is too. They’ve both certainly been accused of it. 

Miles returns the favour and works the soap into Alex’s hair. He needs to use quite a lot to combat the unkempt, greasy mess and he thinks about telling Alex how much expense is being wasted on his hair before deciding that would only give Alex more material for teasing him. Alex seems to be enjoying the experience anyway, humming happily as Miles attends to him.

When he’s finished with Alex’s hair, Alex takes his time in getting Miles clean, paying rapt attention to all sections of his body. “You really do look incredible,” Alex says as he massages Miles’s shoulders. Miles likes the attention and the praise and feels entirely unselfconscious but suspects Alex feels otherwise because by the time he’s rinsed himself off, Alex has efficiently soaped up most of his body. He lets the issue slide. 

He grabs a towel and dries himself off, then passes another to Alex. He hands Alex a dressing gown and leaves the bathroom to put a set of pyjamas on – dark blue silk. When he returns to the bathroom Alex has the gown on and is furiously ruffling his hair with the towel in an effort to dry it off. It’s somehow still dripping all over the floor. Miles does his best to ignore it, turning his attention to his skincare. 

He’s applying a final oil to his skin to seal in the moisture when he notices Alex staring at him in the mirror. He shoots him a questioning glance. “You’ve got the same routine as my girlfriend,” Alex blurts out.

Miles rolls his eyes. It’s the first time they’ve mentioned his girlfriend in a while and they’re highly aware of it. “Yeah, well, we’re both getting on a bit,” Miles offers as a lame attempt at a joke. “Maybe you ought to try it, combat all the cigarettes you smoke.”

Alex contemplates the suggestion without taking offence for a second then nods and flourishes towards his face to encourage Miles to work on him. Miles begins to apply different serums and acids and finds it oddly enjoyable to watch as they soak into Alex’s skin. He wonders if he’s ever had an excuse as good as this to examine Alex’s face so closely and decides he hasn’t, so he’s going to make the most of it. 

He taps a serum into the skin on Alex’s nose, feeling his bone structure and following the line up to the curve of his brows. He rubs little circles into the soft skin of his cheeks. It seems as though he’d still be unable to grow a full beard but he’s getting closer to it. He’s surprised by how smooth and undamaged Alex’s skin is and contemplates getting annoyed because the man’s done everything wrong and yet remains blessedly free of any signs of it. Maybe he has been following his girlfriend’s skincare routines. 

Alex simply lets him use his face as a canvas, breathing steadily with his eyes closed. Every now and again he’ll open his eyes to meet Miles’s and then quirk his lips into a pleased little smile before his eyelids flutter shut. Miles pats some cream around his eyes, the only area that truly betrays his age. With Alex’s other girlfriends he probably would have conversed conspiratorially to get him some eye cream. Now he’s just going to just let the lines collect. 

“How long have you been doing all that?” Alex asks when Miles has finished and given his cheek a final pat. 

“A few years now. Started to see me body falling apart,” he says in a teasing manner that he hopes will misdirect attention away from the deeper insecurity.

It fails, as Alex shoots him a concerned look. “Your body isn’t falling apart. You look better and better every day.”

“Because I’m taking care of it,” Miles retorts.

Alex shrugs, apparently realising he can’t combat that. “I don’t think it would matter. You’ve got the sort of face that’s going to age well,” he says to the floor.

“Thanks,” Miles mutters as he passes Alex a new toothbrush and begins to brush his own teeth, careful of the braces. He really hopes Alex is going to let this one go. As he watches them brushing their teeth in the mirror, he finds the casual domesticity of the scene stings. He spits and sweeps hurriedly into the bedroom, sitting in his bed and looking at his phone. He replies to the messages enquiring about his whereabouts, letting his friends know he was tired and had gone home early and wondering if any of them had also noticed Alex’s early disappearance. Perhaps that was a less noteworthy occasion. 

Alex walks into the bedroom, still in Miles’s robe and asks whether he can borrow anything to sleep in. Miles points him in the direction of his sleepwear and Alex rifles through it. He takes a pair of jogging bottoms and a shirt from Miles’s tour, which Miles thinks is a little cheeky. He does like how Alex looks in his shirt, all soft and pink and clean. He’s looking forward to Alex crawling into bed with him, which he does without asking.

Alex kisses him chastely but Miles can detect the fresh tang of toothpaste anyway. He puts down his phone and settles into bed and Alex curls up against his side. It’s perhaps his favourite position for the two of them to be in. He inhales the scent of Alex’s damp hair and brings a hand up to card gently through the tendrils. Alex sighs happily and snuggles closer, sneaking a hand into Miles’s top so he can rest it on his chest. 

For a moment, it’s easy to pretend that every night he goes to bed with the taste of Alex’s minty breath on his lips and enjoys the warm, reassuring presence of his body. It’s easy to pretend Alex is entirely his to hold and that he’ll wake up still holding him and exchange kisses that are from minty but that he’ll still very much relish. It’s easy to pretend, so he does.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Can't Help Myself' by Alexandra Saviour because it's a great song and it's on Miles's playlist and sometimes when I listen to it I think about Miles listening to it and feel really sad.


End file.
